Shattered Soul
by darthsquirt2
Summary: "I've told you all I know of Hawke, Seeker. Now you want another story? A thousand other people could tell you all about the Warden. I hear she's pretty popular. Why don't you ask 'Sister Nightingale,' hmm? No? Fine then. But I warn you; it's not nearly as pretty a tale." Words attributed to Varric Tethras, Heretic, to Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast. 9:18 Dragon
1. A Warning

Warning. This story is rated M for a reason. This story deals, particularly in the introductory chapters, with sensitive subject matter. It is highly recommended that if you do not feel comfortable reading such material, that you do not read the following story. Though not described, potentially disturbing subject matter is directly referenced, and heavily implied. Again, do not progress unless you are certain that you're able to appropriately cope with such material. Thank you.


	2. And So It Begins

Some hero start off as nobility. All of their lives that have all they could ever want. Then one night, they lose everything. Well, family, influence. All of it, gone. Nothing left to lose, they throw themselves at death again and again, surviving everything the world throws at them because they done it before. Some heroes are outlanders. Thrust from their comfortable lives into a new world, University strengthens them, and they're forced to take up the torch, simply because no one else can. Other heroes start with nothing, and devote themselves to proving their worth, proving the world wrong. They can't fail, simply because they won't let themselves. Most heroes fit to one of these roles. Even Hawke, so cleanly into the second. But the Warden… The Warden was a different thing altogether.

Words attributed to Varric Tethras, Heretic, to Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast.  
9:18 Dragon

"Wake-up cousin." He sweet voice rang out out, stirring Shianni from her slumber.  
She groaned rolled over declared the woman standing at the side of her bed.

"You're awake." The cheerful face being down her.

"'S not even midmorning yet." Shainni slurred, eyeing the catalytic flickered next to her bed.

Her cousins head bobbed happily.

Shianni, grumbling softly to herself, swung herself off her bunk. As soon as her feet hit the floor her hand was reaching under the bed. A bulky flask was removed, and half its contents swiftly downed.

"You really shouldn't drink this early." Her cousin frowned, the tips of her long, pointed, ears twitching slightly.

"What can I say?" Shianni grinned. "I must have some dwarf blood in me." Another gulp. "That and I really hate my liver."

"I'm getting married today, Shianni." Her cousin pouted. "I'd like for you to at least remember it."

"Trust me." Shianni smirked, pushing her auburn hair out of her eyes. "A few more drinks in me and everyone will remember today."

Her scowling relative crossed her arms and glared at her for a moment before she managed to regain her composure.

"I'm going out to find Sorris before you are ale breath fills the house." Her cousin declared, her cheery smile restored.

"Ha! You'll probably have to help his bride drag him to the altar."

Shianni watched, silently, as her cousin withdrew the small curved dirk hung from the wall, and begin securing it to her forearm with a series of intricate knots.

"That won't be a problem." She stated, pleasantly. She pulled the sleeves of her dress up, covering the blade.

Humming softly to herself, the armed elf practically skipped from the building.

"Maker save the groom." Shianni whispered, knocking back the rest of her flask.

* * *

_I'm getting married! I'm getting_ married. The young elf thought, grinning madly to herself as she stepped outside.

If she were any other person, with any other father, she would've been terrified. Like All City dwelling elves, she had never met her betrothed before today, but she knew, _knew_, that her father had found as perfect a match as there could be for her. He had spent days poring over letters for potential suitors for both her and Sorris, her other cousin. Her father had sounded so tired, but so excited when he finally told her she was to be wed. She ran a hand through her hair, slug back behind a headband, and still damp from her morning bath. She strolled happily through the alienage – the slums of Denerim where the elves were forced to live – humming softly and drawing the eyes of those also up and about. Her gaze came to linger on one of the many "helpful"posters displayed, courtesy of the local Arl, reminding the elves that they were not permitted to bear arms. She smirked, feeling the comfortable weight of the blade on her forearm as she walked.

"Hey there, cousin." She heard a mischievous voice call out from above her.

She glanced up, spotting her grinning cousin settled comfortably in the branches of one of the alienage's few oak trees.

"Come to celebrate last day of our independence together?" He asked, jumping down to a nearby wooden platform, and from there to the ground.

"Well I'm excited, anyway." She retorted, her eyes sparkling.

"That's easy for you to say." He taunted. "Apparently your groom's a dream come true. Mine sounds like a dying mouse."

"Come off it, Sorris." She protested. "You know father spent as much time finding you a good match as I."

"I can't wait to see who he finally finds for Shianni." His grin widened. "Come on," he encrypted this should begin to move her mouth. "Let's go find your dreamy betrothed before you say I do."  
He took her hand and dragged her across the alienage square. Her comments defending Shianni died on her lips, banished by the sudden butterflies in her stomach.

The alienage gates opened, and in strode a small entourage finally dressed else, talking, laughing, in the case of the two at the head, looking very nervous.

"Well." Sorris swallowed his nerves as the crowd approached. "That's…uh...lot of people."

The two nervous elves the head of the crowd stopped before them as the rest began to mingle

with the other alienage inhabitants.

"I guess this is it." Sorris muttered to his cousin.

She didn't hear him. Her eyes settled upon her future husband and her heart melted.

"Hello." He greeted her in a quiet, almost melodious voice. "You must be Kallian."

"And you must be Neleros." The spark shot through her as she clasped his hands in hers. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

He smiled timidly back, gently squeezing their hands.

"Are you nervous?" He asked, a concerned note in his voice.

"I was." She beamed up at him. "Not anymore."

His smile brightened. "I-"

"Well, well, well." A loud, boisterous voice cut them off. "So many knife-ears gathered here just for me? I'm touched."

A young, finely dressed human, flanked on either side by smirking cronies, strolled arrogantly through the streets toward them.

"That's the Arl's boy." Someone murmured and the entire crowd grimaced. The young lord was well known amongst the elves.

"My, such lovely creatures." He grinned in a predatory manner, stopping to stand beside Kallian and Neleros. "I understand someone's to be wed today." He hooked an arm around Kallian's waist, pulling her close enough for her to smell the ale on his breath. "You know, we have an old tradition in Ferelden about lords and brides on wedding days."

"You know," Kallian replied, whispering huskily as she leaned closer and snaked an arm around his neck. "We elves have a tradition about human lords."

Her knee wrapped into his groin as she slammed her for head and his. The Arl's son collapsed to the ground, moaning softly.

"You… You knife eared bitch! That was the Arl's son!" One of the remaining humans sputtered indignantly.

"You can just imagine what I'd do to you." Kallian purred, her singsong voice taunting the young noble.

"You'll regret this." The second swore as the two of them lifted their unconscious friend by his arms and dragged him off.

"That… Was the Arl's son." Sorris stammered. "The Arl's son, cousin. You just had butted the Arl's son!"

"It hurt, too!" She complained, rubbing her temples. "He had a really thick skull."

Shianni, who had come outside during the commotion, laughed. "You've got guts, cousin. I was just going to hit them with this." She held up an empty wine bottle.

"And was that bottle full when you came outside?" Sorris asked her, mockingly.

"That's beside the point." She waved him off, pointing to the east, to the middle of the square.

"What matters is that the revered mother is here."

"Already?" Sorris' bride squeaked. He placed a calming hand on hers.

"Are you ready?" Neleros turned to his bride to be.

"Yes." She replied without hesitation. "Let's go."

As she walked to the center of the square, her arms entwined his, she saw another human, this one dark skinned and sporting fine armor. Completed rope toward his body, and an ornate longsword was strapped to his back. He was staring at her intently. She watched as Valadrian, the alienage is Elder greeted the human, talking amicably with the tall man. She shrugged, resolving to ask the older about it later. The ceremony that followed was not short, but it was sweet. It was touching, romantic, like all of rituals handed down by the ancient dailish elves, it was both permanent and by. Kallian saw her father at the front of the watching crowd with tears in his eyes. She imagined her mother smiling down at her from the Creators' side.

"And do you, Sorris, take this woman to be your wife, for good or ill, and prosperity in famine, until death and beyond, as witnessed by the Maker?"

"I do."

He and his betrothed exchange grins, both grinning like fools. The revered mother then turned to Kallian and Neleros. Both their hearts skipped three beats.

"Do you, Kallian, take this man to be her husband, for good or ill, and prosperity in famine, until death and beyond, as witnessed by the Maker?"

"I do." She be, feeling her heart inflate.

"And do you, Neleros, do you take this woman-"

"Not so fast, 'mother.'" A familiar voice snarled. "If anyone's going to be taking that knife eared wench, it'll be me."

All eyes turned the alienage gates as a full platoon of armored guardsmen marched in, headed by the Arl's son and his two cronies.

"Now wait just a minute." Neleros protested as the column approached. He moved to stand in front of his betrothed. "You can't just-"

In one, slightly fumbled motion, the Arl's son drew his blade and cut a bloody swath actually a cross Neleros' chest.

"No!" Kallian cried, kneeling beside his bleeding form.

"Sergeant." The noble growled, turning to his troops. "Escort this woman to my father's estate."

"Sir." A grizzled guardsmen objected. "Should we not take her to the jails?"

"Are you disobeying a direct order, Sergeant?" The young lordling asked quietly.

"No sir!" The soldier gave a crossed arm salute before marching toward the weeping almost widow.

"Stay away from me." She warned, trembling. "Don't you dare touch me."

"Don't make this any harder than it needs to be." He begin to move slowly towards her, arm outstretched.

With an incoherent, but no less furious roar, she leaped off the ground, punching at his exposed face. They toppled to the ground tumble flying blows and splattering blood.

She only stopped when two guards tackled her off the beaten officer. The Sergeant stood unsteadily and spit a mixture of blood and enamel from his mouth.

"Take her back to the Arl's estate." He coughed.

A fist collided with the back of Kallian's skull, and the world went dark.

* * *

Note: This is a expository piece. If there is satisfactory interest in continuation past the second chapter, I will post more to the story upon completion of existing projects. Please leave a comment if you would like to see more of this story. Thank you.


End file.
